AGN -Chapter 161 Liang Zhu (Final)

In the next few days, Luo Jun continued as usual—going out during the day to read newspapers and returning home at night to recite novels. His life was very regular.

At the same time, it was also very dangerous.

Qin Huai could clearly feel that the enemy’s bombing frequency was increasing. When he first entered this memory, the bombing had just ended.

Three days later, the second bombing occurred.

The third bombing came on the fifth day.

The fourth occurred on the sixth day.

Both the third and fourth bombings happened during the daytime. Two consecutive days of bombing kept the public in a state of extreme tension. When Luo Jun walked through the streets looking for a place to read novels, Qin Huai could clearly sense the fear and anxiety among the common people—there were even fewer vendors selling firewood and vegetables.

Households dared neither to close their doors too tightly nor leave them wide open. Valuables were packed and ready. As soon as the air-raid siren sounded, people would rush to public shelters carrying their children and belongings.

The frequent bombings completely disrupted public life, yet had no effect on the gentlemen and ladies living in the villas.

A man surnamed Ge even had the leisure to host a small birthday banquet for his newly taken third concubine the day after the fourth bombing ended.

It was a purely Western-style gathering. Guests wore suits and long dresses, all dressed elegantly, adorned with dazzling jewelry. Champagne, red wine, and a variety of desserts were served. A specially made 16-inch cake was cut only once before being taken away, because the highlight of the banquet was the birthday gift Mr. Ge gave to his concubine—

A custom-made necklace inlaid with rubies, emeralds, jade, and scattered diamonds.

This necklace was stained with blood.

As for why Qin Huai knew this, it was because he had personally seen Luo Jun handle a minor issue that could have affected his daily life during the interval between the third and fourth bombings. To resolve it completely at the root, Luo Jun not only eliminated the problem but also collected a “service fee” from the opponent’s safe.

There were quite a lot of items in the safe. When packing them up, this necklace fell out. Luo Jun disliked it because it was stained with blood, so he gave it to Mr. Ge as “acting fee.”

Yes, Mr. Ge was Luo Jun’s newly chosen “business partner.”

Although Cao, the department head, often used overtime as an excuse to maintain two extramarital affairs that he never brought home, he had plenty of time and would often not return home during the day or night. He seemed like a good “cooperating actor.”

However, Madam Cao had a fiery temper, spoke without restraint, and often projected her own situation onto others, disliking Luo Jun greatly. Luo Jun felt that Cao was not an ideal partner for a supporting role.

Of course, Cao was not entirely out of the stage and would occasionally make guest appearances—for example, negotiating business with Mr. Ge during the day, and negotiating with Cao at night. Occasionally returning home late at night would not arouse suspicion from Liu Tao.

After the fourth bombing, the enemy did not bomb for a full week, and Liu Tao became less tense than before.

Life continued as usual—so uneventful that Qin Huai could barely keep track of time. It felt like each day passed in a blur of reading novels, reading novels, and more reading novels.

Perhaps due to the wartime, there were fewer serialized novels in newspapers. During this period, Luo Jun had been reading old newspapers, organized by date and read from the beginning. Serialized stories could be completed in one go, without the frustration of cliffhangers.

It was another good day for reading.

The sun was bright and the temperature pleasant. Luo Jun, under the pretext of discussing business with Mr. Ge, drank some tangerine peel tea and left home as usual, carrying a stack of newspapers, wandering through the streets to a spacious civilian area.

Recently, Luo Jun had been reading newspapers in this area. It was a newly discovered good spot. A woman in one household grew wildflowers that she occasionally sold to the wealthier district. During this season, the flowers were in bloom, and the air carried a faint, pleasant fragrance.

Luo Jun negotiated with the family and paid one silver dollar to rent a space at their entrance along with a chair. He came daily to sit and read newspapers.

The woman naturally accepted such a good deal. Her husband, a carpenter, even made a dedicated bamboo chair overnight and kept the entrance clean every day, waiting for Luo Jun’s arrival.

Luo Jun was very satisfied with this new spot. He arrived early each day and sat in the place with the best lighting to read.

Qin Huai was also looking forward to it. Yesterday, the novel had just reached the exciting part where the hero re-emerged, shaking the world and punishing evil. Luo Jun, who had already read it before, could remain composed, but this was Qin Huai’s first time reading—how could he endure the suspense?

If he weren’t inside a memory and unable to flip the newspaper, he would have secretly taken it out at night to read under the moonlight.

Finally able to continue the story, Qin Huai stood beside Luo Jun, reading with great interest.

Suddenly, the air-raid siren sounded.

It had been a long time since he last heard it. Qin Huai was startled. Looking up, he saw people around him panicking.

Some hurriedly packed their belongings, stuffing even bowls and chopsticks into their bundles. Some carried children in one hand and chickens in the other, gripping the chickens even tighter than the children.

The woman’s family reacted similarly. She held her child’s hand while her husband carried valuables. As they ran out of the courtyard and saw Luo Jun still standing there calmly holding a newspaper, the woman kindly reminded him:

“Mr. Luo, the air-raid siren has sounded. The nearest shelter is far away at Qianshan. Hurry and run—if you’re late, you won’t get in.”

After saying that, she had no time to worry further and ran off with her child.

Luo Jun did not leave. Instead, he carried his chair into the courtyard, sat down, and continued reading.

Fortunately, that area was not bombed. Two hours later, people gradually returned from the shelters, cheering in relief upon finding their homes intact. The woman’s husband even took out two eggs as a celebration, asking his wife to cook them for the child, and gave one to Luo Jun to share in the good fortune.

Luo Jun accepted without hesitation, but did not eat it—he likely intended to bring it back for Liu Tao.

At noon, the air-raid siren sounded again.

Two sirens in one day—people, exhausted as they were, could only curse while once again gathering their belongings and rushing to shelters.

This time, the siren came very late. Barely two minutes after it sounded, Qin Huai heard bombings in the distance.

Luo Jun, irritated by the two bombings in one day, could no longer focus on reading. He put away his newspapers and wandered slowly around the city.

After over an hour of wandering amid the bombings, Luo Jun checked the time and began heading back. With two daytime bombings, he knew Liu Tao would be worried if he did not return promptly, so he had to time his return carefully.

Even so, he was still a bit late by the time he got home—it was already dusk.

The streets were chaotic. Luo Jun disliked crowds and disorder, so he deliberately avoided people along the way, even subduing three opportunistic robbers, which delayed him further.

Normally, Liu Tao would be waiting at the door at this time.

But today, the entrance to his home was unusually lively.

There were many people.

A nervous Cao department head, flustered servants from the Cao household, a concubine covering her nose with a handkerchief, a panicked third concubine of Mr. Ge, and Mr. Ge himself, who seemed to be rehearsing a dramatic breakdown…

Among them were others Qin Huai recognized from the shelter, along with familiar neighbors and their servants, gathered around either anxiously or watching with interest.

What shocked Qin Huai most was the presence of a doctor in a white coat.

Someone spotted Luo Jun.

“Mr. Luo is back!”

“Mr. Luo has arrived!”

“Mr. Luo…”

The crowd reacted as if a switch had been flipped. Mr. Ge suddenly burst into loud wailing, crying hysterically as he stumbled forward, slapping himself and nearly kneeling before Luo Jun.

“Mr. Luo, I’ve wronged you! It’s all my fault—I caused harm to Madam Luo!” he cried, his face swollen from the blows.

“What are you talking about?” Luo Jun asked expressionlessly.

Mr. Ge did not answer, continuing to slap himself, as if trying to knock himself unconscious, repeatedly crying that it was his fault.

Qin Huai immediately ran into the house.

Outside was crowded, but inside was quiet.

Madam Cao was crying so hard her makeup had smeared, clutching the doctor’s sleeve and shouting: “She was still breathing just now! She was still talking to me! She looked fine—just a small wound on her foot with hardly any bleeding. How could she be gone now? Check again! Send her to the hospital!”

The doctor, wearing a mask, could only explain repeatedly: “Madam Cao, Madam Luo’s heartbeat and breathing have stopped. Her internal organs were shattered by the blast. Even if she had been sent to the hospital immediately, it likely would have been futile.”

“Madam Cao… please accept my condolences.”

Qin Huai saw Liu Tao lying on the ground, covered by a white cloth.

Her eyes were closed, her face clean, lips colorless. She looked as if she were merely asleep—very peaceful.

Madam Cao collapsed onto the ground and cried loudly.

Luo Jun entered, followed by Mr. Ge with a swollen face and bleeding lips, and Cao department head, who looked hesitant. Seeing his wife crying on the ground, Cao did not stop her, only signaling the maid to help her up.

“What happened?” Luo Jun asked calmly.

Qin Huai observed his expression. As always, there was no emotional fluctuation—calm to the point of eeriness. It seemed as if what lay before him was not Liu Tao’s body, but simply a person asleep from illness.

Mr. Ge slapped himself even harder, too afraid to speak.

“Old Luo, my condolences,” Cao sighed, patting Luo Jun’s shoulder as he stepped in to explain.

“Today, during the two bombings… during the first one, it didn’t last long. Old Ge slipped before entering the shelter and hit his head. The message sent home was misreported as him being injured and sent to the hospital.”

“Your wife thought you were with Mr. Ge and went to the hospital looking for you. In a panic, Mr. Ge claimed you had gone to a bookstore. Your wife went there—and then the bombing planes came.”

“Your two servants… didn’t survive either. I had their bodies collected.”

Cao sighed again. “Fate is unpredictable. When your wife was brought back, she still had a pulse. We thought it was minor injuries and called a doctor, but she passed before the doctor arrived…”

Mr. Ge cried out loudly: “Mr. Luo, I’ve wronged you! It’s all my fault! If I hadn’t said you went to the bookstore, Madam Luo wouldn’t have gone there!”

After that, he took a deep breath and fainted.

Cao quickly signaled for someone to carry him out.

Luo Jun stood silently, looking at Liu Tao’s body covered in white cloth, expression unchanged, as if thinking about something.

Cao signaled everyone else to leave, giving Luo Jun space to process and accept reality. As the maid helped the sobbing Madam Cao out, Luo Jun suddenly spoke as she was about to reach the door: “Is there a good burial site nearby with good feng shui?”

Cao was stunned, then quickly replied: “Yes, of course. I know a renowned feng shui master—we can find a suitable site.”

Luo Jun nodded. “Then arrange a good one. Let’s bury her within the next couple of days.”

His calm tone left everyone in the room astonished. Even the maid supporting Madam Cao couldn’t help but glance at him in disbelief—unable to believe such cold indifference from a husband whose wife’s body lay before him.

Luo Jun took an egg from his pocket and placed it on the display shelf.

“Can butterflies eat eggs?” he asked.

Cao’s eyes widened in shock, wondering if Luo Jun had lost his mind.

Luo Jun remained calm, but Madam Cao suddenly exploded in anger.

“Are you even human, Luo?!”

She shouted, “Even if Liu Tao had no children, she was your legally wedded wife! She just died, and you don’t shed a single tear—you don’t even show a trace of grief, and now you’re worrying about whether butterflies eat eggs?!”

“She was worried about you going out and getting bombed! And you won’t even pretend a little, not even giving her the dignity she deserved in death! And you’re already talking about burial arrangements—what kind of…”

“Take her out immediately!” Cao roared, cutting her off, then turned back to Luo Jun with an apologetic smile. “Mr. Luo, I’m terribly sorry—my wife is just too overwhelmed with grief and misspoke.”

“I understand,” Luo Jun replied. “So she doesn’t like being a butterfly?”

Cao felt that Luo Jun might truly have lost his mind.

Liu Tao’s funeral was arranged by Cao and Mr. Ge. Perhaps trying to make amends, Mr. Ge organized the most grand funeral possible in a very short time.

Not only was a fine coffin prepared, but a feng shui master also selected an auspicious burial site in a remote, uninhabited area—said to be an excellent location.

Luo Jun bought all the land in that area and had a house built there.

After that, Qin Huai’s perception of time in this memory felt like a fast-forwarded film.

Time passed extremely quickly—one blink, one moment of distraction, and a day would be gone.

Perhaps this section of the story was long and dull. Luo Jun built a small house by Liu Tao’s grave and lived there, bringing a chair daily to sit before her tomb and read newspapers and books.

At first, many people came to find him—some seeking favors, some seeking connections, some seeking wealth, and many wanting to introduce him to a new wife.

Luo Jun ignored them all, continuing to sit by the grave and read.

Gradually, fewer and fewer people came.

Time flowed faster and faster. Seasons changed, trees grew taller, and grass needed regular maintenance. Luo Jun no longer subscribed to newspapers, only rereading the ones he had already read.

He lived a life cut off from the outside world, unaware of what was happening beyond.

Time seemed to stand still for him.

Qin Huai felt as though he was waiting for something every day—but what could he possibly be waiting for?

Waiting for Liu Tao to transform into a butterfly?

But that was merely a story from the opera.

Finally, one quiet afternoon, the rapid flow of time came to a halt—someone arrived.

It was Madam Cao.

After several years, she looked much more haggard.

Gone was her former wealth and jewelry. The pearl necklace she used to wear was nowhere to be seen. She wore plain gray cotton clothing instead of qipao. She had lost weight, her cheeks slightly sunken, and wrinkles lined her face—she looked much older.

“Mr. Luo, it’s been a long time,” she said, her temperament now much gentler.

“Has it been a long time?” Luo Jun had no clear sense of time.

Madam Cao smiled. “About four or five years. I’m leaving here to return to the countryside. Before I go, I wanted to come see Liu Tao.”

Luo Jun gestured for her to look freely.

“They all say you’ve gone mad,” Madam Cao said. “They say you’ve become obsessed with stories and novels, living like the devoted lovers in operas—abandoning a life of wealth to stay here guarding your deceased wife’s grave.”

“Back then, I said things I shouldn’t have. I thought you were having an affair and deceiving Liu Tao into leaving for Shanghai. In hindsight, I wish I had encouraged her to take you back—maybe she would still be alive.”

“I’m not crazy,” Luo Jun said calmly.

Madam Cao smiled. “I really enjoyed playing mahjong with Liu Tao.”

“I was a rural wife married to Old Cao in the countryside. I couldn’t read, didn’t like Western clothes, couldn’t wear high heels, and didn’t enjoy coffee. Everyone looked down on me. If my brother hadn’t risen in rank, Old Cao would never have brought me to the city.”

“Old Cao wanted to climb higher and asked me to please Liu Tao and build connections with you. At first I refused—I hated flattering people. Those young, beautiful madams looked down on us rural wives, even criticizing how we handled cards at the mahjong table.”

“But she… never mind.”

She took out a cloth bundle from her pocket and carefully revealed a small silver earring.

“This was something Liu Tao lost before. She said it was a dowry from her elder sister Hong, not valuable but very meaningful. She didn’t dare wear it in public for fear of embarrassing you, only wearing it when coming to my house to play mahjong.”

“She was always so careful, afraid of doing anything that might make you lose face. Do you remember the tangerine peel chicken soup my servants used to send over? That was all made by Liu Tao. She hadn’t quite learned properly—every time the chicken was overcooked, so she only dared serve the soup and not the meat, claiming it was made by my cook.”

“Where is Cao now?” Luo Jun asked.

“He’s dead,” Madam Cao said casually. “My brother is also dead. The concubines all ran away. I have no sons, only one daughter, and I didn’t receive much of the inheritance. Life here has become difficult, so I’m taking my daughter back to the countryside.”

“This will likely be the last time I come here. I came to see Liu Tao… for one final visit.”

Luo Jun looked at her clothes and gestured for her to hand over the silver earring. She gave him the bundle. Luo Jun took it and went into the house.

In less than two minutes, he returned with a small box and handed it to Madam Cao. Inside were six small gold ingots.

“Write letters when you return, so we don’t lose contact. Liu Tao didn’t make many new friends in life—I can’t let her lose another one after she transforms into a butterfly.”

Madam Cao froze, then blurted out, “What butterfly? Are you really mad?”

“Don’t lovers become butterflies after death?” Luo Jun asked. “Like in the Liang Zhu story—the human form dies, but they continue living as butterflies, becoming yellow butterflies.”

Madam Cao stared blankly for a long time, then slowly said, “But… that’s just a story.”

“What do you mean?” Luo Jun asked.

“Those are operatic stories—fiction. Some parts may be based on truth, but not everything is real. The transformation into butterflies is just part of the play. It’s not real.”

“You mean… people cannot become butterflies.”

Luo Jun froze.

“Once people die, they’re gone. They don’t become butterflies.”

“You… all these years… could it be that you—”

It was as if Luo Jun suddenly awakened from a long dream, as if someone had shaken him and said: wake up.

“What did you say?” Luo Jun asked hoarsely.

“I said… the transformation into butterflies is just fiction. It’s not real,” Madam Cao said, taking a breath as if she had made up her mind. “Mr. Luo, I don’t know why you misunderstood.”

“But… Liu Tao has already been dead for five years. She will not become a butterfly.”

“You should wake up.”

Qin Huai looked at Luo Jun.

This was the first time Luo Jun showed an expression of shock.

Shock mixed with confusion—like a child who believed he had mastered the rules of the world, only to suddenly be told that the rules he learned were wrong, that he had never truly understood the world.

Five years after Liu Tao’s death, Luo Jun finally learned that his wife had been dead all along.

Buried in the earth, turned into bones.

Truly, and completely, dead.

Qin Huai knew that Luo Jun’s tribulation had failed.

Qin Huai left the memory.